


I Feel Too Much

by PearlyWrites



Category: Original Work
Genre: Borderline Personality Disorder, Dealing with a mental disorder sucks, Depression, Gen, Insanity, Just need to get this out there, Loneliness, NOT ACTUALLY A FANFIC, Poetry, This seems like a problem, Why do all my stories so far have loneliness tagged to them, happiness, only sometimes though, sorry - Freeform, venting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2018-08-27 04:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8386657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PearlyWrites/pseuds/PearlyWrites
Summary: The ramblings of a madwoman. Read at your own risk.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah. BPD. Might wanna look it up. Unless you just want to wing it, that's fine. No judgment here. Heavens knows I've done that plenty of times.

Today was one of those bad days.

"It's senioritis," they say. "You're just not getting enough sleep, you have too much homework, it's fine." But it's not. Because the problem's not any of those things.

I'm so lonely. So, so lonely.

When I feel lonely, and have no one to support me, to keep me grounded, I give up. It's not that I'm not sleeping enough. It's not that I have too much homework. I sleep just fine. This semester, I have no homework.

I'm just so lonely.

Sure, I have plenty of people online and through text tell me, "I'm here for you, I'll listen. You're not alone." But I am, because they're not HERE. Here, next to me, where I can touch them and joke with them and laugh with them and relieve the stress and feel LOVED. They're not here to do that.

I HAD friends. Friends I could trust and laugh with and feel loved by. Then they left. Or they changed. Or they hurt me. So I had to push them away. To protect myself.

And it left me broken, exposed, and so, so lonely.

I see them, the girls that I trusted who hurt me. I see them in the hallways, in assemblies, sitting with friends, hanging off her boyfriend. I hate them. I get so angry. Why do  _they_ get to have friends after how much they hurt me? After how they proved how awful they are?

But I do nothing. I do nothing and I say nothing because lashing out is childish. Lashing out is for the immature. The mentally unstable.

I hate myself, more than them.

I can't trust people anymore, I've discovered. Because of them. So I don't let anyone in. And I have no one to joke with, to relax with, so I come off as distanced, haughty, selfish. And I drive them away. And I don't try to apologize or chase after them because a part of me thinks I deserve this.

I'm insane. I don't deserve friends. I deserve to hurt, and hate, and be forever alone. The multiple people who felt the need to put me down have proven this.

I'm so lonely. So, so lonely.

I saw them both today, the two girls who ruined my life. One was wearing an ugly black dress with hair done up excessively and her hand in her boyfriend's. One was wearing her class officer coat, sitting by the other officers and yelling the school cheer.

And I was alone.

Sure, I know other people, I go to an afterschool club and I drive people to school and I sit by them at lunch and it helps for a little bit. But never for long. And then I see the girls in the hall and when that happens, I'm always,  _always_ alone.

I just want someone to hold me, and hug me, and tell me it'll be okay, it's okay to feel like this. I'm not going to slowly die, from the inside out.

But that's not going to happen, is it? That's too much to ask for. Because crazy people don't deserve to be happy.

 

I just want to feel happy again.


	2. It's Gotten Better

It's been about a year since I last saw those girls. I've moved to a new city, in college far away from them and anyone they knew.

 

It's so much better this way. They barely cross my mind and I've made new friends, who I know won't judge me or hurt me like they did. I'm taking medicine to fight the depression they put me in and I'm doing what I love - expressing myself through writing and art. My new friends are nerds like me but they speak through art, too. We understand each other. We have our problems and we bond through them, through our understanding of each other.

 

I can write what I want and I take long walks in the afternoon to help me brainstorm. The weather is so nice here, but it still feels like home. I miss my family sometimes, of course, but that's just because home is a six hour drive away. I still visit on occasion and I'm learning so many fascinating new things in school that everything, _everything_ is just so much better.

 

I feel better. Stronger.

 

Happier.

 

If you're reading this and relate to the previous chapter, please know that I speak from experience when I say it gets better. Pain is temporary. Your opportunity will come, and it will get better. You'll find someone or something to help, to ease the pain, and you'll remember the joys of smiling and laughing and not worrying about whatever's hurting you now. I love you and you should love you, too.

 

Keep up the good fight.


End file.
